Sibling Rivalry
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: A brother and sister want siblings of the same sex for the weekend; Rogan grants a superhero fantasy; and Leslie pushes him for a final answer on her future on the island. Follows 'Comeback'
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_Finally finished! This one took a while to write, between an exhausting temp job and an unwelcome case of writer's block. I do have an idea for the next story though, so there may be a few flashback stories and a lot of characters you might remember. If you have a particular episode you like that I haven't yet included in a story, by all means leave me a review and tell me which one you want to see included in the next tale!_

* * *

§ § § - August 29, 2009

School would begin in just two more days, and the triplets were so excited it was all they could talk about. For the moment, though, Leslie's focus was on the weekend; it had been a busy summer, and she and Christian had had little chance to really sit down and talk, with either Roarke or each other. Roarke had devoted quite a bit more time to Rogan's training, often leaving Leslie with the general supervision of quite a few fantasies, unless a snag developed that was beyond her expertise. During the weekdays, particularly once August had begun, Leslie, Lauren and Maureen had gone together on several shopping trips to the Air Force base on Coral Island to get school clothes for their children; on one such trip, they had been accompanied by Ivy Krakowski Sensei, Taro's second wife whom he had met when her sister had brought her to the island for a fantasy. Taro and Ivy's Tia was also beginning kindergarten, and was reportedly as excited as Susanna, Karina, Tobias, Kevin and April.

So Leslie was feeling a little breathless when she, Roarke and Rogan stepped out of the rover at the plane dock and got ready to greet their latest guests. "Smiles, everyone, smiles!" Roarke reminded the natives, the way he had done every weekend for many years; Rogan peered at him and shook his head.

"Ye say that every weekend, uncle. Don't ye think by now they know the drill?" he inquired, folding his arms over his chest.

Leslie grinned at him. "I think it's less a command, or even an instruction, than a signal," she told him. "It's kind of a warning—we're here and it's time to put out the welcome mat for the guests, so no more running around or socializing or whatever."

"Thank you, Leslie," said Roarke, with a pointed look at Rogan, who shrugged.

"Ye'll pardon me if I come up with somethin' different, once I take over," he said, before shooting both Roarke and Leslie that irrepressible grin of his and watching Roarke motion the band into action.

"Do as you will," said Roarke. "If you will, kindly introduce Rogan to his guest this weekend, Leslie." This was a job he had given her after the last weekend in June when Rogan had stumbled through granting his first fantasy without Roarke's help; Rogan had lodged a complaint about describing his assigned fantasy every weekend, so that Leslie had suggested she do it for him so as to remind him of what was coming. However, she still thought it was an affectation on her cousin's part; after all, as she remembered reasoning to Christian one evening in mid-July, if Rogan was to be required to make all the preparations for a fantasy, how could he fail to recognize the guest and know what the person's fantasy was when the weekend rolled around? All Christian had been able to do was laugh at Rogan's foibles, but she intended to point this out to her cousin when she got a chance.

For now, though, she did as asked. "Jack DeFazio, from Cranston, Rhode Island. He's loved comic books all his life, and he has a truly massive collection—at least according to his letter." She shared a grin with her father. "Anyway, his favorite superhero is Spider-Man, and for this weekend, that's who he wants to be."

"Och, now I remember," Rogan said, shaking his head a little. "All that red an' blue latex...an' the damn spider silk! I had to pay Rory a quarter a spider to get enough o' the little pests for a weekend's worth o' webbing." He snorted. "Th' lad got rich off me."

Leslie snickered and Roarke stifled a smile before saying, "I'm sure it was worth the trouble, particularly if you were able to prevent Rory taking his usual shortcut with the MacNabb powers. You should have little trouble with this fantasy."

"Famous last words," Rogan grunted, a phrase he had uttered often enough over the summer that Leslie was getting sick of hearing it.

_"Anyway..." _Leslie broke in, with a sharp look at her cousin. "And how about this bunch, Father?"

"Ah yes...in front, you see Mrs. Valerie Griffin, who came here with her children, Chance and Hayley, from Rice Lake, Wisconsin. Behind them is Chance's girlfriend, Elara Hawthorne. The latter three are all college students. The Griffin siblings were born a little more than a year apart, and they're very competitive. Mrs. Griffin explained in her letter that from the time they were quite young, both her children have wished for a sibling of the same gender. She finally grew weary of hearing the complaints, and brought her offspring here so that they could at last get what they want: a brother for Chance, and a sister for Hayley."

Leslie laughed. "And she's hoping they're going to see the drawbacks of having what they always wanted, so they'll shut up about it once and for all."

"Essentially, yes," Roarke said with a chuckle. "But perhaps even she won't get just what she hopes for." On that note, he raised the champagne flute a native girl brought him and issued his weekly welcome.

"When do_ I _get to drink the wine?" Rogan asked as soon as Roarke had lowered the glass. Leslie rolled her eyes; Roarke simply glanced at him and shook his head.

"As soon as you take over full operation of the business," Roarke told Rogan, who let out a put-upon sigh and pretended to ignore Leslie's grin.

‡ ‡ ‡

Christian, playing with a client's website on the laptop he had received the previous Christmas, laughed when he heard about the Griffin fantasy. "Perhaps we'd better let Tobias in on this one, since he's been complaining lately about having too many females in the house. Even the cat is female, he said."

Roarke laughed. "I recall his asking you about getting a second cat, preferably male."

"Yeah, well, what he doesn't know is what happens when you put a boy cat and a girl cat together," Leslie said. "But it's funny, I was thinking about that myself, getting Tobias to see that having a brother may not be everything he thinks it is. Of course, my love, he could always just ask you. You certainly have enough horror stories to tell."

"Unfortunately, yes," Christian agreed mildly, moving a photo to a different place on the screen. "My tales on Arnulf would give him nightmares till he reaches high school. So tell me, how exactly are you going to give these two the brother and sister they want? Come up with clones? Hire a couple of actors? Magically create two people out of clay and watercolors?" He caught Roarke's look and shrugged. "You can't blame me for my curiosity."

Roarke chuckled and remarked, "It had crossed my mind to suggest that Chance and Hayley Griffin should speak with the two of you before I begin their fantasy. Between your memories of your oldest brother, Christian, and yours of your twin sisters, Leslie, you might save me a weekend's worth of work."

"I doubt it," Leslie said, and Christian grinned. "You know how they are, Father—they don't believe it if they just hear it secondhand. They have to find out the hard way."

"As is true of so many things," Roarke observed. Christian and Leslie grinned at each other in knowing agreement. "However, I would not be disinclined to let you two try to convince the Griffin siblings that their fantasy will have its drawbacks."

When Valerie Griffin appeared with Chance and Hayley less than half an hour later, she shook her head, laughing. "You can try," she said, brushing back a lock of wayward hair that persisted in falling into one eye from the side part of her snappy wedge haircut. "I've tried on too many occasions to count, but these two are stubborn."

Chance and Hayley were attractive young people who took after their mother in looks; they seemed astonished to be in the presence of royalty, and their awe became self-evident when Chance remarked, "I guess your brother was the exception to the rule, Your Highness...considering what he did to keep you and Princess Leslie apart."

Christian hiked a brow. "Whatever you've heard, whatever you think you know, it was worse," he assured the young man. "My brother Arnulf was determined to have his own way in the matter of my marital status, no matter what I might say. The animosity between us went all the way back to my earliest memories. He was my father's puppet; I spent many a day wondering whether he ever had an original thought in his life."

"But your other brother, Prince Carl Johan...I've heard he's really cool," Chance said with an enthusiastic grin. "I've read stuff that says you're close with him."

"Yes, that's true," Christian said, glancing at Roarke as if he'd realized he'd just been checkmated. Roarke smiled faintly.

"Y'see, Mom? My brother would be as cool to me as Prince Carl Johan is to Prince Christian," Chance said with a satisfied grin. "None of that crap that King Arnulf put him through. I know, because it's my fantasy to have the brother I always wanted, and he'll be just the kind of brother I always wished Hayley was."

Hayley rolled her eyes. "I can't wait to have my fantasy sister. I wouldn't be hearing all kinds of stupid junk about how brothers are better and all that garbage."

"Sometimes sisters aren't that much better," Leslie observed, thinking back to her childhood with Kristy and Kelly. "I had a few run-ins with my sisters, way back when."

"You had sisters?" Hayley asked in amazement.

Leslie nodded. "Identical twins." Hayley lit up with delight, and Leslie laughed. "Oh, they had their moments, believe me. And my daughters are no different; I think Karina and Susanna, for all that they're identical too, are more different than similar. They get on each other's nerves, since they share a room. My sisters got on each other's nerves too, and on mine almost as often. Fantasy sister or not, if you really want the experience of having one, you'll have to be ready for the disagreements."

"But you must really miss your sisters," Hayley appealed.

Leslie sighed. "I do, but..."

"So there you go," said Hayley triumphantly. "Doesn't matter how much you fight, does it? In the end, you still love each other."

Roarke chuckled as Valerie spread her arms, turned her palms ceilingward and said, "I rest my case. There's no point in telling them the disadvantages, Mr. Roarke. You might as well just give them the brother and sister they want and let them get to it."

Clearly very much amused, Roarke gave in with good grace. "I can see further effort would be futile. Very well, Mr. and Miss Griffin, you shall have the brother and sister you've asked for. They will bear whatever names your mother would have chosen for them had she actually given birth to them, and they will bear the same family resemblance you two have to her and each other. Chance, your brother will be about a year older, and Hayley, your sister will be approximately a year younger than you. They will share many of your memories of growing up in rural Wisconsin, and in fact you will also have memories of growing up with them—just for the weekend, of course." Chance and Hayley nodded eagerly. "One last bit of advice: you will all be sharing a bungalow. I am terribly sorry that we don't have any extra accommodations, but I felt it was best to give you the full experience."

"No problem, Mr. Roarke," Chance said. "This'll be great." He turned to Valerie. "So what're we waiting for? Let's go back and meet the new family members!"

"Yeah, quick—I'm dying to see what my sister looks like!" Hayley agreed.

Valerie cleared her throat loudly. "Aren't you two forgetting something?"

"Oh, yeah—thanks, Mr. Roarke!" Hayley exclaimed, and Chance echoed her before the two of them barreled out the door. Valerie stared after them, shaking her head.

"I already have the feeling I'll be sorry I ever decided to give them this fantasy," she mumbled through a sigh.

"What do you wish the names of your, uh...temporary children to be?" Roarke asked.

Valerie looked up sharply as if startled, then grinned ruefully. "This might be the only fun part of this whole business. I always liked the names Owen for a boy and Sydney for a girl. So I guess I'd better get back to the bungalow so I can meet my new kids." Roarke, Leslie and Christian laughed and wished her luck; Valerie thanked them and departed, raking her hair out of her eyes again as she went.

"Just like that, she and her children are going to find the fantasy siblings there?" asked Christian skeptically. "That seems anticlimactic."

Roarke smiled. "Not everything must be flashy, Christian. Sometimes simple is better. Leslie, I believe Anastasia is awake...perhaps you'd better see to her."

At which they heard Anastasia begin to cry from upstairs; Leslie sighed and tossed Christian a resigned smile. "I'm still trying to decide whether I'm going to miss that little habit of yours, Father," she remarked as she headed for the stairs. Roarke only shook his head, making Christian chuckle and finally return his attention to the computer.

‡ ‡ ‡

By lunchtime no one had heard from the Griffin family, which actually wasn't that unusual; but when Tobias heard that Chance Griffin was getting a brother for the weekend, his eyes popped so wide they looked like caricatures. "How come I can't have a brother too?" he pleaded, turning to Roarke. "Please, Grandfather!"

"You haven't asked your parents," Roarke pointed out.

"They'll just say no," Tobias said dismissively, with perfect logic that made Leslie and Christian glance at each other with wry resignation. "I want a brother, _please_, and I know you're the only one who could do it. I mean...well, Rory prob'ly could, but his parents won't let him, so I gotta ask you."

"There's a reason you should ask your parents, Tobias," Roarke informed his grandson, "and there's also a reason they say no. Why don't you ask your father about what it was like for him to have a brother; he had many bad experiences."

"But Uncle Carl Johan's really cool!" Tobias protested.

"Uncle Carl Johan wasn't my only brother, Tobias," Christian said. "We had another brother, your uncle Arnulf. He did a lot of bad things, but one of the worst ones was to keep your mother and me from being together." When Tobias squinted at him, Christian went on to summarize a few of Arnulf's infractions against him.

"Wow, Uncle Arnulf sure was mean," Susanna said in awe. "He wouldn't let you come and marry Mommy? Why not?"

Christian released a heavy sigh. "It's a long story, Susanna, and I think perhaps it's better if we talk about it another time." He cleared his throat and turned to Roarke. "I thought Rogan was supposed to be eating with us."

"It appears," Roarke mused, "that Mr. DeFazio's Spider-Man fantasy has run into a few difficulties...not the least of which is that he needed a crash course in learning how to control his web-producing ability after encasing himself in spider silk."

Leslie covered a grin with one hand; Christian rolled his eyes and shook his head. "I sometimes wonder that people don't sue you at some point for these ridiculous problems in their fantasies," he said. "I realize you're trying to teach them something, but being a superhero for a weekend seems harmless enough; what kind of lesson would Mr. DeFazio need to learn simply because he thought it would be fun to be Spider-Man?"

Roarke eyed him and inquired, "Christian, am I wrong, or do you labor under the delusion that I am somehow able to control every aspect, big or small, of a given fantasy?"

Christian stilled and stared back at him for a moment; then his eyes shifted away, and he cleared his throat again. "Ah...well, perhaps I did. I apologize, Mr. Roarke. I just thought it seemed a little unfair."

"You fall into the trap that so many of my guests do," Roarke said, "namely, that a fantasy is supposed to be exactly as its holder has always dreamed it would be, perfect and flawless and without even the smallest errors. In the earliest days of my business, even I had to learn through experience that this simply isn't the case. Leslie can attest to the countless occasions on which I've informed our guests that, once a fantasy has begun, it is entirely out of my control. It's up to the fantasizer to make the best of it that he or she can."

"Goodness, my love," said Leslie mildly, "you've been here long enough by now, I'd think you'd know that. Heck, I'd bet if Spider-Man were real, he'd have had to learn how to use those web-slinging gadgets on his wrists too."

"It's easy," said Tobias scornfully, grinning. "All you have to do is this!" He turned his arm so that the underside of his wrist faced the ceiling, pressed his middle two fingers against the base of his palm, and produced a _"thwip!"_ sound effect, pretending to watch a string of spider silk shoot through the air. "Perfect aim," the five-year-old boasted, "right on the ceiling, right where I wanted it!"

"I bet it's stuck in the ceiling fan," Karina said, glancing at Susanna, and both girls burst into giggles.

Tobias glared at them. "It's not fair I can't have a brother!" he complained.

Christian and Leslie both groaned, and Roarke laughed. "We'll discuss that later. I suggest you children finish your lunch, if you expect Brianna to take you to the amusement park this afternoon." That got results, and for another ten minutes or so the adults made idle conversation, till suddenly Rogan appeared from the lawn on the other side of the main house and came up the steps and across the veranda, picking at his sleeve.

"Something wrong?" Leslie asked him when he was within earshot.

"I've given me last web-slingin' lesson," Rogan informed the group at large, giving his hand several violent shakes as if trying to get something off it. "Lucky for DeFazio he picked it up so quickly once he got the hang of it, but not before I got caught in the line o' fire." He threw Roarke a disgusted look. "I'm tryin' me best, uncle, but all summer long it's been one thing after another. Ye really oughta tell that tribunal where to get off."

"As you and Leslie are both fully aware, it isn't my choice any longer." Roarke's voice was curt, surprising even Rogan. "You've been unusually rebellious about the entire situation, and I'm beginning to feel perhaps it's best if I make an announcement that the fantasy-granting business will have to be shut down indefinitely."

Rogan turned red. "Och, uncle, I know...I complain a lot, aye...but ye know I went into this under duress, and we all know I'll never be as good at it as ye are. Just because I have the raw ability doesn't mean I've the desire or the aptitude. I'm gettin' hardly any sleep at night, I find meself snappin' at Julie an' the lads, an' nothin' ever seems to go right."

"And you haven't spoken without that brogue ever since we got back from Lilla Jordsö, either," Leslie added, "which just tells me that you're going to make yourself sick from all the stress. I'd do it if I could, but I'm just a plain old ordinary earth human."

"Aye, I know it," Rogan grumbled. "Julie thinks I'm exaggeratin', but she doesn't see what I go through around here every weekend. Say..." His attention was suddenly distracted by something in the lane, and all eyes followed his. "Isn't that the one lad's girlfriend, the one who wanted a brother for the weekend? Who's that she's with?"

Roarke arose and called, "Miss Hawthorne, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Absolutely, Mr. Roarke!" Elara Hawthorne called back. "Chance introduced me to his brother Owen here, and Owen just turns out to be the nicest guy! He and Chance were supposed to both take me over to the pool, but for some reason Chance went off by himself somewhere. He'll be sorry he missed a good swim." She giggled. "Thanks for asking, Mr. Roarke. Don't let us interrupt your lunch."

"This is some great island, Mr. Roarke!" Owen Griffin exclaimed, beaming. "We're all having the best vacation ever—me and Sydney and Mom and Hayley and Chance! Thanks so much for everything!"

"You're quite welcome, Mr. Griffin," said Roarke with a broad smile. "Enjoy your time at the pool." Owen and Elara waved at him and trotted off along the lane, and Roarke watched them go before resuming his seat, his smile rapidly fading.

"He's already stealing Chance's girlfriend," Leslie said. "So much for brotherhood."

"That's mean," Karina said indignantly.

"I wouldn't care if my brother stole my girlfriend," Tobias scoffed. "Who wants a dumb old girlfriend anyway?"

"Wait a few years, me lad, ye'll be changin' yer tune right enough," Rogan said with a grin. "May as well have some lunch—I need the break. I'm hopin' DeFazio'll have enough spider-sense in him to get along without me for an afternoon." He blew out a breath and took his usual chair, while Christian and Leslie grinned at each other.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § - August 29, 2009

It was a little past three that afternoon and Christian was putting the finishing touches on the website he was creating, while Leslie played with Anastasia, now just over four months old and beginning to develop her own little personality. Anastasia loved playing peekaboo with anyone who would indulge her, and Leslie was at it now, crouching behind the loveseat and suddenly popping up from behind it with a gentle "boo!" or a big grin or a funny face; every single time, Anastasia squealed with delighted baby chortles, often rocking back and forth like a Weeble, a toy Leslie remembered from her own childhood. The baby's actions made Leslie giggle constantly; Christian's grin at his youngest child's delight seemed perpetual, and Roarke wore a broad smile as he did some accounting.

Finally Christian gave up, set the laptop aside and shook his head. "Anastasia Enstad, you really know how to get to a person, don't you. Look, even your grandfather's distracted! What are we going to do about that?" he teased, delivering some swift tickles to Anastasia's stomach that made the infant double over laughing.

"You don't know how fortunate you are, Christian," Roarke observed, watching, his smile broader, if anything. "She's a very happy and contented baby."

Leslie scooped Anastasia up and cuddled her close. "She sure is." She settled down beside Christian and kissed him. "Oh, my love, right now feels like it's perfect."

Christian's smile grew slightly quizzical, but he slipped an arm across her shoulders and gave her a gentle hug, without questioning her. Anastasia reached out and grabbed at his Rolex, and he let out a laugh, tickling her once again and eliciting her happy squeal.

Before anyone could do any more, though, there was a knock, which caused Anastasia to turn her head in that direction to stare. Roarke called out an acknowledgment, and a second later Hayley Griffin walked in, tugging her "weekend sister", Sydney, by the hand. Sydney looked almost like Hayley's twin, Leslie thought; she, Christian and a very avid Anastasia watched while Hayley glared at Sydney. "Show him, you brat. Show Mr. Roarke what you're wearing."

Sydney gave Hayley a curious look, then shrugged and twirled around once, the skirt of her dress flaring out. "Will that do, sis?"

"What, if I may ask, is significant about Sydney's attire?" Roarke inquired.

"It's _mine,_ that's what's significant about it! She dug right into my suitcase and took it and put it on, without even asking me!" Hayley raged.

"I already apologized for not asking," Sydney said in a wounded tone. "But you have such great taste in clothes, Hay! I really love this dress!"

"That doesn't mean you can just help yourself!" Hayley protested.

"Miss Griffin..." Roarke said, raising both hands a little. "Please, calm yourself."

"This fantasy's not going anything like it was supposed to," complained Hayley in a familiar refrain that had Christian and Leslie grinning wryly at each other. "All I wanted was a sister to share confidences and memories and fun times with..."

"And clothes, apparently," Roarke noted, seemingly innocent of his own irony.

"Only with my permission—which she didn't have! What am I supposed to do about this?" Hayley wanted to know.

"Did you speak with your mother?" asked Roarke.

"Mom said we have to work it out between us," Sydney said, which got her another infuriated look from Hayley. "She didn't give us any real advice at all, to be honest. She looked pretty tired, actually."

Leslie chuckled, getting the sisters' attention. "I have a feeling she was hoping she could have a little vacation of her own. You know, Hayley, I remember you saying just this morning that it doesn't matter how much you fight, you still love each other. How much sisterly love has there been between you two today?"

"Not much," Sydney said, pouting. "But this is kind of normal. I mean...you can't imagine how much I hate being the little sister sometimes. Hayley thinks she gets to boss me around just because she has a year on me."

Hayley blinked, looking shocked. "Hey...I...I don't do that..." she began.

"Oh, you do too," Sydney said. "Don't even try to deny it. I know, you probably just do it because Chance does it to you, and Chance does it because Owen does it to him, and all that trash. But that doesn't leave anyone for _me_ to boss around."

Christian snickered. "I know the feeling all too well," he assured Sydney.

Hayley gaped at him, then at Roarke, and cried, "You're not supposed to take her side! She's the one who's the fantasy here!"

"You only wish, big sister," Sydney snapped. "Just when I thought we were going to have a really great family vacation, and maybe get closer as sisters...and nothing changes." She shook her head and flounced out of the house.

"It's not fair," Hayley wailed, sinking into a chair. "All my life I wanted a sister, and now it's like you're...you're trying to spoil it by teaching me a lesson about how horrible it can be to have one. It's not fair, Mr. Roarke."

Roarke studied her. "What, exactly, did you expect from the experience of having a sister, Miss Griffin?" he asked. "What do you think it should be like?"

Hayley seemed caught up short by this. "Well...I...I don't know. Maybe a little less of that smug superiority I get from Chance just because he's a guy and gets to do a load of things I can't. Having somebody to talk to about the cute guys in school, I guess. Somebody who likes the same music and TV shows and famous hotties I do. Something like that."

Leslie grinned, remembering Kelly and Kristy. "Somebody who'd look up to you?"

Hayley stared at her. "Yeah...like I bet your sisters looked up to you."

"Did they, my Rose?" asked Christian with amusement.

"Oh, sometimes," Leslie said with a laugh, gently patting Anastasia's tummy. "Kristy more than Kelly, overall. Kelly was really an independent thinker. I think Kristy just needed more...more protection or something." She paused, thinking back. "Come to think of it, they shared each other's clothes all the time too—which was a little funny because they had such different tastes. Kelly was a lot more of a tomboy, and Kristy liked frillier, girlier stuff. She'd wear Kelly's clothes if most of her own were in the laundry, and usually didn't complain, but Kelly wore Kristy's stuff only if she had to."

"Did they ever try to wear any of your clothes?" Hayley asked.

"Not really. Not that it mattered, because they always ended up getting my outgrown stuff anyway." Leslie focused on Hayley. "I have a feeling you were kind of hoping that, if you were going to share clothes with Sydney, you'd be the one dictating which clothes to share."

Hayley blushed, while Roarke carefully hid a smile. "Yeah, well...I guess that's true."

Leslie leaned forward a little, both hands wrapped securely around Anastasia, and urged, "Try this, Hayley—offer to take Sydney clothes shopping, and help her pick out stuff that would flatter her. Give her the benefit of that good taste she said you have." As Hayley stared, she grinned and added, "The best part is that you can have those clothes all to yourself after your fantasy ends and you don't have a sister anymore."

Christian let out a loud snort of amusement; Roarke cast his gaze skyward, and Hayley's mouth dropped open with wonder. "Wow," she breathed. "Holy cow, Mrs. Enstad, you're right! How come I never thought of that? That's _great_ advice—thanks!" She tossed off a quick thanks at Roarke as well before leaping up and rushing out.

"Leslie Susan..." Roarke said through a sigh.

"What?" Leslie asked, bewildered, spreading out both palms. "It's true, you know."

Christian started to laugh. "Something tells me you must have wished on at least a few occasions that you could have done that where your own sisters were concerned."

Leslie snickered. "Well, maybe once or twice. To be honest, I'm more worried about what our girls are going to do when they're old enough to care about these things." She burst out laughing at Christian's groan, and Roarke chuckled—a little less reluctantly when Anastasia chortled energetically in response to her mother's laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § - August 29, 2009

During the evening, after Anastasia had been fed and put to bed for the night (or at least part thereof), the study was considerably quieter despite that the triplets were still up; Christian and Leslie were jointly reading a storybook to them, keeping them entertained while Roarke was out making a few rounds and checking the luau. As Christian was reading one of the character speeches in a growly voice that had the children giggling, Rogan came in and stopped at the top of the steps into the study; all five Enstads looked up and eyed him quizzically. "Something wrong?" Leslie asked.

"Where's uncle?" Rogan wanted to know.

"At the luau, the last we heard," Christian told him. "Why?"

"DeFazio's fantasy. I just remembered uncle told me at supper that I needed to make a quick check on it before I head home for the night. Problem is...I just did, just a hasty wee look, an' he's in a mess. I think I'm gonna need some help, so if ye might be willin', cousin..."

Leslie blinked, while Christian tried to fight a smile, Susanna and Karina made faces, and Tobias sat up with excitement. "You want me to help out?" Leslie asked.

"Well, uncle's not here, and ye're the only other one with experience..." Rogan began.

"Can I help too? Please, Mommy?" Tobias begged, actually interlacing his fingers and raising his clasped hands as if in supplication. "I really, really wanna see Spider-Man!"

"Uh, Tobias, I don't think that's a good idea," Christian tried to dissuade him.

"Aye, yer da's right, lad," Rogan said hastily. "It's not the place for a wee lad."

"I'm five whole years old!" Tobias protested with enormous indignation. "I know how to behave myself!" He turned to Leslie again. "Pleeeeeeease, Mommy, pleeeeeeeease?"

"Tobias," Christian said in low warning.

Leslie sighed. "Honey, Rogan and Daddy are right—this isn't the kind of thing you should be doing. I wouldn't be going either if Rogan didn't think he needed help." She gave Rogan a suspicious look while Tobias began to protest and plead all at once, and had to speak over his persistent begging. "I can't imagine what good you think I could do."

"Tobias, that's enough," Christian said sternly.

"But Daddy!" Tobias wailed.

Leslie set the book aside and got up. "Well, what kind of a mess is Mr. DeFazio in, exactly? I hope it's not another problem with the web-slinger things."

"No, no, it's not that," Rogan hastened to assure her. "Uh, no...as a matter of fact, it's more of a...well, more of a romance problem."

Even Tobias fell silent at that, and Leslie stared at Rogan. "What do you mean, a romance problem? I didn't know Spider-Man had a girlfriend."

Christian laughed from behind her. "Ach, my Rose, even I knew that. I think her name was Mary something..."

"Mary Jane," Rogan supplied. "An' aye, it's a problem all right—because DeFazio's married, an' it looks as if he's started fallin' for Mary Jane."

Leslie released a small, patient sigh and folded her arms over her chest. "I don't see why you need my help. Just tell him it's a fantasy and he needs to remember that Mary Jane isn't being played by his wife."

"Don't you still wanna go?" Susanna taunted her brother.

"Mm-hmm," Christian noted ironically, "he could always tell Mr. DeFazio what a stupid thing it is for Spider-Man to have a girlfriend." Leslie gave a slight start and stared at him over her shoulder; he shrugged, but the impish gleam still played around him.

"I'll get you for that, Christian Enstad," Leslie promised, and he grinned. Turning back to Rogan, she said, "Unless you think he's so far gone that it's going to take two of us to convince him that Mary Jane's just a fantasy."

"He might be," said Rogan, scowling. "We're wastin' time, Leslie, let's go."

"Perhaps you'd better go ahead and help, my Rose," Christian advised. "I'll finish reading to the children and then get them ready for bed."

This raised protests from all three triplets, but Christian shushed them while Leslie gave up and grumbled, "Oh, all right. But it doesn't sound to me like anything that you'd really need my help with. Show me what the heck's going on. And you three...don't give Daddy any trouble, now. When he says it's time for bed, it's time for bed, period." She aimed a stern look at the pouting youngsters, then turned back to her cousin. "Lead on."

She was surprised when Rogan took her outside and led her across the side yard into the trees there. "Where are you taking me, anyway?"

"This is where uncle had me take DeFazio to start his fantasy, an' I have to go in here every time I do a checkup. Last time, I was pickin' bits o' misshot web off me shirt. I hate to think what I'll find this time round. Stay close, Leslie, it's blacker than the divvil's heart in here." He more or less felt his way forward, and Leslie—barely able to see his form in what little moonlight filtered through the treetops—was tempted to grab the back of his shirt to keep from losing track of him.

To her surprise, Rogan took her to a cave and led the way in without breaking stride. "Hey," she protested, "I thought this was Spider-Man, not Batman."

"It _is_ Spider-Man," he said. "I told uncle I thought it was time we got creative, an' I happened to find this cave while I was out searchin' for some new plants to cultivate, so I suggested we use it as a launch point for fantasies now an' then. But ye know, it could work great for a Batman fantasy. Just hope we don't have one anytime soon..." His voice trailed off and Leslie grinned to herself, picking her way along after him.

Another twenty or so steps, and they emerged quite suddenly onto a city street at night, frequented by people rushing to and fro, hailing taxis, shouting at one another, meeting in front of shops, trying to get somewhere with as little contact as possible. Rogan turned to her. "This way."

A little more than five minutes later they had entered an apartment building and taken an alarmingly creaky elevator to an upper floor, and were standing in front of a worn-out-looking door. Rogan thumped it with his fist, and Leslie winced, afraid it would cave in; but it held, and a moment later Jack DeFazio opened it. "Oh...hi there, Rogan."

"Aye, an' hello t'ye too," Rogan replied, his brogue thickening again. "Ye're alone in here, I hope."

DeFazio looked confused. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because o' Mary Jane, boyo," said Rogan. "Don't ye be fallin' in love with her now."

DeFazio blinked at him, noticed Leslie standing behind him and cleared his throat, looking curiously guilty. "Oh, well..." Then he peered hard at Rogan. "How'd you know she was here?"

"Rogan was doing a little check just to be sure you were all right," Leslie said, "and I guess he saw you with Mary Jane. Did you send her home?"

"I had to make myself do it, but yeah, I did it," DeFazio said through a sigh. "I guess maybe I should've picked a superhero who was more of a loner, but man...the whole thing with Spider-Man swinging between buildings like he could fly—that really got me, y'know? That's what made me decide on him. I forgot all about Mary Jane."

"If you wanted to fly," Leslie said with a quirk of the mouth, "you should've asked to be Wonder Woman for a weekend. Invisible jet and all that." Both men stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. "Never mind. So what'll you do about Mary Jane, then?"

"I'll just have to remind myself that I'm married, I guess," DeFazio mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "But then...what'll I do if Mary Jane asks me why I'm suddenly not the romantic guy she thought she knew?"

Rogan looked at Leslie, but Leslie simply looked back at him, as if to say, _Hey, it's your show. _ Rogan's expression turned quite filthy for just a second before he shifted his attention to DeFazio. "Ye'll find a way, I'm sure."

"But..." DeFazio began to protest.

"If you really, really have to keep up façades, then for Pete's sake, just imagine she's your wife," Leslie said, shaking her head once or twice. "Just try to remember not to call her by your wife's name, that's all. Oh...and incidentally, have you mastered those web-slinging things yet? I heard you had some trouble with them earlier, and I just thought I'd check, to see if Father can do anything if you need it."

"That was easier than this thing with Mary Jane," DeFazio admitted, and she grinned. He managed a smile back. "Man, this fantasy...I really thought it'd be easier. But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Heck, it's only another day."

"Careful with that attitude," Rogan cautioned. "Ye can get yerself into mountains o' trouble if ye don't take a little care. Just remember our advice an' ye oughta be fine."

DeFazio started to speak; then three or four horns blasted all at once outside the window, and he cranked around in startlement before running to it and peering out. Leslie nudged Rogan and jabbed a thumb at the door, and he nodded as if reminded and followed her quietly out. When the elevator doors slid open, instead of the aging car, they beheld the side lawn at the main house. Rogan made a shocked noise, and Leslie had to grab his arm and pull him through before the doors closed on him.

"Why didn't that happen before?" Rogan finally demanded once they were on the porch and heading for the door.

"You were in such a hurry, you never mentioned it," said Leslie. "One thing Father managed to teach me in the last two or three years was a form of telepathic contact. I can do it only with him, but at least I can do it. I just sent him a quick mental message telling him we needed a faster way out of there than we'd taken going in, so he prepared that exit for us and let me know about it just before we left DeFazio's apartment. I think that kind of stuff is going to be next on your curriculum with Father. Later on he'll probably teach you how to vanish right from the spot, without having to physically walk away."

"Och, already I'm gettin' vertigo just thinkin' about it," Rogan grumbled, and she chuckled as she led him into the house. The study was empty, and Rogan paused in the middle of the room while she checked for phone messages. "Uncle's still at the luau?"

"Presumably," said Leslie. "You can go talk to him there if you want."

"I've had enough for a night. I'm headin' home," Rogan said, and departed by the French shutters without further ado. Having ascertained that no one had called in their absence, Leslie pulled the shutters closed and doused most of the lights in the study, leaving only the glass-shaded lamp burning for Roarke later, before going upstairs.

"Ah, there you are," said Christian, who was sitting up in bed reading a book in _jordiska_. "You were gone so long I had to put the children to bed for the night."

"We couldn't have been out more than half an hour," Leslie said, surprised. "Maybe I should check with Father and see if time here and time in a fantasy are sliding off track with each other or something. Anyway, I'm probably done for the night. Rogan bailed out for home as soon as we got back, and I should get some sleep before Anastasia decides she's hungry again."

Christian chuckled, watching her change into nightclothes. "Are you sure you should try to retire so early? I can recall quite a few occasions when you and Mr. Roarke were needed for some late-night crisis, and it would be just your misfortune if you were nearly asleep and something happened to come up without warning."

"Let's hope that either Father won't need me, or Valerie Griffin will step in and mete out some discipline," Leslie said through a yawn, making Christian grin again. "They're her kids, after all, not mine. I have my own four to worry about."

"True," Christian conceded, amused. "I hope you don't mind if I try to get ahead on this book a bit. I've not had a chance to read much in the last week, and this was the only opportunity I could find, so I seized it."

"What is it?" asked Leslie, leaning over to peer at the densely printed pages. "Ugh. It looks pretty tedious."

"One of the unfortunate necessities about working with computers and the internet," Christian admitted with a tolerant sigh. "It's yet another update for hardware and software in general. I'll be busy with computer work around this end of the island tomorrow, so I'd better absorb what I can while I have the chance."

At that precise moment there was a knock on the door downstairs, and he looked up in amazement while she froze in place for a few seconds, then let out a disgusted curse that made Christian burst into startled laughter. "You were right, my love...blast you anyway," she said, mostly teasingly, and he shook his head and flapped a hand at her, still laughing, while she grabbed a robe, yanked it on and scurried downstairs.

The visitor was Chance Griffin, who was in a rage that Leslie could immediately see carried destructive potential. "Where's Roarke?" he demanded as soon as she opened the door. "I've got bones to pick with him—hell, I've got a whole skeleton! Where is he?"

"He's at the luau," Leslie said, staring at him. "Would you rather go talk to him?"

"I just came from the damn luau," Chance growled, actually shoving her aside to stalk into the outer foyer past her. "I'm not going back there again for anything."

Leslie edged hastily past him to let him into the study, though she had a feeling this was going to be a difficult interlude. "Well, if you want to wait for him, I can contact him..."

"No, if he's there and you're here, you'll do just as well. I want to know what the hell you and Roarke think you're trying to pull off! I asked for a brother, you know. What I got was a backstabbing, double-crossing, lying, cheating, thieving traitor!"

"Wow," Leslie murmured. "Well, here, have a seat, and tell me exactly what Owen's done that's made you so mad."

"Oh, I don't need to sit down for this. Number one, the jerk steals my girlfriend. Then he cozies up to Mom and next thing you know, he's her favorite kid, even beyond Sydney. He's better-looking than me, he's got way more charm, he flirts with every girl in sight—and Elara doesn't even care!—and he's ripped beyond belief. He knows everything about everything, the turd." He glared at Leslie. "You weren't supposed to make him perfect! All I wanted was a brother I could hang out with, talk about cars, discuss our favorite sports teams, check out women...you know, be buddies with. Y'know, Hayley and I didn't ask you to side with our mom about our fantasy. You and Roarke did this just to try to prove a point to us, didn't you? You better make Owen more ordinary, or so help me, I'll badmouth you and Roarke and this island all over my school and all over Facebook and Twitter and every other place I can think of!"

By this time Chance's voice had risen enough that Christian was on his way down the stairs, still buttoning the pajama shirt he normally shunned in private. "Is there a problem here, my Rose?" he asked, eyeing Chance.

"It doesn't concern you, Prince," Chance snapped, too angry to pay deference, which Leslie was sure Christian wouldn't have cared about anyway. "You can butt out."

"If you're threatening my wife in any way, it most certainly does concern me," Christian corrected him, his voice chilling. "Take a seat and calm down."

"What're you gonna do about it if I don't?" Chance sneered at him.

"We can terminate your fantasy right here and now, if you get any more verbally abusive or if it translates into something physical," Leslie warned him, glaring, her own ire rising now. "You may have a right to complain about your weekend brother, but you don't have the right to be rude about it. Plant your butt, Griffin, right now."

Something in her voice seemed to get through to him, and he eyed her with a grudgingly impressed expression before slowly lowering himself into a chair. Christian smiled, relaxing a little. " 'Plant your butt'?" he repeated, turning to Leslie. She shrugged, and he let out a soft chuckle.

"I still want to know what you're gonna do about that perfect brother of mine," said Chance in a sulky tone. "He's getting on my nerves like you wouldn't believe. I can't even get Elara to talk to me now. She's too busy singing Owen's praises."

"What kind of relationship do you have with Owen, anyway?" Leslie asked.

Chance, brought up short, stared at her as though she'd asked the question in _jordiska_. "Huh? Whaddaya mean, 'relationship'?"

"What she means," said Roarke from behind them, "is your everyday interaction with Owen. Remember, Mr. Griffin, for this weekend, you have memories of a lifetime with your brother. Draw on those, and tell me how you and he normally get along." He stepped fully into the study from one of the French shutters and drew it closed behind him.

Faced now with three people, none of whom seemed to be on his side, Chance let out a defeated sigh and thought. "Well...I guess he spent a lot of time bossing me around. He was popular in high school, and I was always the kid brother. Which," he blasted at Roarke as if in new realization, "isn't the fantasy I signed up to get! I just wanted a regular guy for a brother. I didn't want the mega-performing superhero you gave me. He's ingratiated himself with my mother and Hayley and Sydney, and he's stolen my girlfriend!"

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Griffin, but the unfortunate fact is that siblings, no matter whether they are of the same or the opposite sex, simply cannot be perfect. The question now is whether you will simply take it lying down, or if you'll stand up to him and find out what Owen's true motives may be. You could find that they are completely different from what you think they are. Even if they aren't, you can't expect others to solve your problems for you. Whatever issues you have with your brother, you yourself must address them."

"Right," muttered Chance, stewing. "I should've known I wasn't gonna get any better advice than that."

"At the very least, you might try commiserating with Hayley," Leslie offered. "She's having trouble with Sydney too. If you and Hayley put your heads together, maybe you can come up with a solution that'll allow you to get along with Owen and Sydney."

Chance looked at her as if she had just morphed into some especially creepy alien in front of them all. _"Hayley?_ Are you joking?"

Leslie shook her head and eyed him. "Try it."

Chance threw his hands in the air and got out of the chair, groaning, "Oh, all right, I guess it's not as nuts as it sounds." He left the house without another word.

"You're welcome," Leslie snorted when he was gone.

Christian laughed. "You know, Mr. Roarke, I'd be interested in seeing you grant a fantasy in which two brothers would prefer a sister, or the other way around—just for a change of pace. No one ever seems to truly get what they want here, yet you must have the highest percentage of satisfied customers in the world every Monday morning." On Roarke's chuckle, he turned to his wife. "I think you'd better come up with me and get some sleep while you still have the chance. We'll see you tomorrow morning, Mr. Roarke."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § - August 30, 2009

Rogan arrived at the main house about fifteen minutes after breakfast on Sunday morning with Julie, Rory and Lucan. Lucan, a handsome little boy of four, became a chatterbox as soon as he and Tobias got together; he had become quite fluent in English since the Callaghans had taken him in after the deaths of his parents, and Julie said he spoke Italian now only when he dreamed at night. "I wish there were some way he could retain his Italian though," she commented. "There's just nobody here on the island who speaks it."

"Sometimes there's nothin' ye can do about it, lass," Rogan told her. "It's just one o' the costs o' having to change his life in the wake of Giancarlo and Marina dyin'. While we're more or less on the subject...Christian, have ye heard anything from your niece about her takin' the amakarna cure? Seems to me ye would've by now."

"We had enough else to distract us, we managed to forget about it," Christian admitted, "but now that you bring it up, I ought to see what her final decision is—particularly in light of the coming changes around here. I presume once you've taken over for Mr. Roarke, you'll have far less time to devote to the greenhouse."

"Aye, which is one reason I've welcomed the drop in amakarna sales. I've still got plenty o' customers for the stuff, but I'd say it's no more than forty percent or so o' what I had this time last year. Seems an amazin' number o' those takin' the spice hated it an' were more than glad for the opportunity to rid themselves o' the need."

Christian nodded. "I can certainly imagine. I'm only sorry Marina didn't happen to have the idea for the cure long ago...such as when I had to be married to her."

Rogan let out a laugh and said, "Aye...well, better late than never, eh? Anyhow, I'd suggest ye get in touch with Princess Anna-Kristina an' ask her what the verdict is."

"I'll do that," Christian agreed, "although I daresay that if she's gone this long without letting us know what she wants to do, that in itself is enough of an answer. She was afraid of the side effects, and I suspect it was enough to scare her off taking it, despite her loathing for her continued dependence on the spice."

"I've never yet heard anyone say it wasn't worth the side effects to be free o' the spice an' its expense, no matter how bad said side effects were," Rogan noted. "Ye might advise her o' that an' see what she says." On Christian's nod, he looked at Roarke. "I don't suppose ye've heard anythin' from our Spider-Man this mornin'..."

"Not so far," said Roarke. "It _is_ rather early, so I suggest you keep yourself available for any contingencies that may arise. Leslie and I will be here in the study if you need us for any reason; we'll be working on the usual paperwork and scheduling."

Christian had started playing on his laptop, and Rory peered at the screen over his shoulder, from behind him, without his knowledge—at least till he said suddenly, "Hey, Uncle Prince, don't you have a Facebook page? You oughta get one."

Christian had given a start at Rory's first word, but let out a laugh when the boy had asked his question. "I doubt I'd have time to keep up with something like that. I believe there are some pages for my family on that site, but I see no reason to have one of my own. I suppose you're looking forward to having yours?"

"Can't till I'm thirteen," Rory groused. "I asked my parents a whole buncha times already, but they showed me the site rules and they say you have to be thirteen."

"And we are not breaking the rules like some of the parents of your friends in school, either," Julie added severely.

Rory made a face, but his attention had gone back to what Christian was doing. "Is that your e-mail?" he asked.

Rogan turned around finally and admonished, "Rory, let be—that's not yer business. Apologies, Christian, but he's gettin' computer-savvy. They seem to be teachin' it in school earlier every year. By now you might expect the triplets to begin learnin' as soon as they set foot in their kindergarten classroom tomorrow."

"Yeah, school tomorrow," Rory mourned. "I wish summer could last forever."

"Not me," said Tobias, grinning. "We're all gonna have fun in kindy-garden. Our babysitter Brianna says you mostly just play in there."

"Not when you get older," said Rory. "You gotta learn tons of stuff then, and you don't get to play anymore."

"Jaded for only a fourth-grader, isn't he?" Leslie remarked to Julie, who rolled her eyes. Chuckling, Leslie added, "I'd think you ought to be outside, Rory, making the most of your last day of freedom, instead of complaining about tomorrow. Tobias, Susanna, Karina, you three can go out with him, but stay in the side yard and don't go anywhere."

"Hey, Rory," Susanna said as the children headed out through the French shutters, "you said we sing songs in kindy-garden, right? Which ones?" Their voices were lost to the adults as the youngsters disappeared around the corner, with Lucan tagging along behind.

"Well, all right, the message is sent, then," Christian murmured, half to himself; Leslie glanced back at him and smiled a little, wondering when and whether Anna-Kristina would respond, and then whether Christian would come along with her when she took the triplets to school for the very first time. _They're growing up...don't even think about it!_ She pulled in a breath, let it out and put her attention to opening fantasy-request letters.

It was still over half an hour till lunch when the quiet study—now occupied only by Roarke, Leslie and Christian, since Julie had gone back to the B&amp;B and Rogan was making a discreet check on the DeFazio fantasy—was invaded by the Griffin siblings. "I think we did it," Chance was saying, and grinned when Roarke and Leslie looked up at him. "That was a great idea you gave me last night. Thanks a lot for putting it in my head. Hayley agrees."

"What idea was that?" Roarke inquired.

"Aw, well, we got together and started talking about Owen and Sydney, and how mad we were, especially after Sydney turned out to look better in Hayley's clothes than Hayley does, and how Owen ran off with Elara, and how perfect they are. They get attention from the opposite sex, they're too talented for their own good..."

"Sydney swims like a dolphin," Hayley put in sourly, "and I saw her over at that ice-skating rink...Fantasy Iceland, great name, by the way. She skates like an Olympic champ. She rides horses like a professional equestrienne, she sings in perfect pitch, she could be a makeup artist to the stars, and she's so graceful and cheerful and smiling. When you send her back, Mr. Roarke, let me know where she went so I can make a quick trip there after her and take some Perfect Pills like hers."

"Don't worry about that, sis. Sydney'll get what she's got coming, same as Owen." Chance grinned. "We planted a couple of rumors about them to each other. Told Sydney that Owen's gonna tell all the guys that she cheats at everything, and we said to Owen that Sydney spread a rumor about how he steals other guys' girlfriends. Which is true," Chance added when he noticed Roarke's and Leslie's expressions. "He stole mine, after all."

"And spreading rumors is the way to stop them from spoiling things for you two?" Leslie said, shaking her head. "Hasn't either one of you tried just sitting down and talking to them, maybe?"

"I can hardly stand to talk to Sydney after she raided my suitcase," Hayley snorted.

"Owen wouldn't talk to me if his life depended on it," said Chance. "He's too busy showing off for all the women."

"What has your mother said about all this?" asked Roarke.

"She just shakes her head and tells us we're the ones who wanted the brother and sister, so it's up to us to deal with them," said Hayley. "She said she was sick enough of mediating fights between Chance and me, and she didn't want anything to do with the ones between Owen and Chance or between me and Sydney."

"I have a funny feeling all you've done all weekend is fight with them," Leslie said, glancing back and forth between the siblings. "You wanted the brother and sister so badly, you wouldn't listen to everybody's caveats, and now you're refusing to try to make things better with them. I don't know...maybe that's only so you can turn around and blame us for not providing exactly the kind of siblings you wanted. Brothers get on each other's nerves, sisters get on each other's nerves, and brothers and sisters do the same thing. It makes no difference what you have. If there's more than one kid in a family, you're going to have fights; that's all there is to it. The key is in how you handle the fights. You either let it blow over, apologize and go on, or you take it so personally that it destroys the relationship. It doesn't look like either one of you has given Owen or Sydney the chance to be the kind of brother and sister you claim to want. Instead, almost immediately you stormed in here complaining about their antics and how offended you were. I think you really should approach this whole thing from a different angle."

"Leslie has good advice," Roarke said with a little smile. "Ponder it for a while, and then make your decisions. I can only hope they are the right ones."

Chance and Hayley looked at each other, then nodded and left silently. Christian, who had been watching from the loveseat all the while, caught Leslie's eye. "That was good advice, my Rose. I should think Rogan would be taking some lessons from you as well as from Mr. Roarke."

She smiled, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe I'm just trying to protect my job," she joked, and Roarke chuckled; Christian smiled back and returned to the website on his laptop, making her think back over what she had said and then roll her eyes to herself. "Christian, I was kidding, in case you thought otherwise."

He looked back around at her. "I know," he said mildly. "I'm just trying to get back into the rhythm of what I was doing here. Don't pay me any attention."

She nodded agreement, but found herself gazing at him, watching him pulling a website together for a client. Finally she turned back to Roarke and mused, "The way Rogan's going, he'll need all of us—you for advice, me for his assistant, and Rory for his trainee, so that he can pass things on as soon as humanly possible."

"Perhaps, perhaps," Roarke agreed, chuckling again. "Rogan doesn't realize it in his great reluctance, but he's settling in. I know it doesn't appear to be so, but it's true. While he may not enjoy it, by the time I must join the tribunal, he will have enough knowledge to carry on in my place."

"He might," said Leslie skeptically, "but will he have the self-confidence?"

"That _is_ the hundred-thousand-dollar question, is it not?" Roarke noted humorously. "Only time will tell, my child. For now, be patient and bear with him; he's trying." At that moment he seemed to remember something and consulted his gold watch, an affectation Leslie still loved about him and one that he sometimes tended to employ even when he could much more easily have glanced at the nearby grandfather clock. "As I thought—I do indeed have an appointment in less than half an hour. If you two will take care of things here, I'd be grateful. I'll try to be back before the evening meal."

"Take as long as you have to," Leslie said, and Roarke smiled and departed. She took his place behind the desk and paused long enough to gaze again at Christian, who was still engrossed in his website project and who, she was sure, had never even heard Roarke's request of a moment before. She smiled to herself and returned to the task at hand, but now she was distracted for some reason. Setting aside the letters, she let her mind roam, and was a little surprised to realize it kept returning to the subject of Rogan and her job. It took her some ten minutes of heavy-duty thinking to realize exactly what she needed to do.


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § - August 30, 2009

However, it was almost another hour before Rogan dropped in. "Well," he said, "I just looked in on our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, an' it seems he's doin' fine for himself. Must've finally got the hang of bein' a superhero, after all."

"Good," said Leslie. "Rogan, sit down. I want to talk to you."

Her cousin gave her a curious look but took the nearest chair. "Aye, an' what about?"

Point-blank she asked him, "Exactly what kind of future do I have in this enterprise after you take over?"

Rogan stared at her. "Why're you askin' me now?"

"Because I want to know now," she said. "We're going to sit here and hash this out if it takes the rest of the afternoon. This has been bothering me ever since I got back...hell, ever since you first e-mailed me that something was wrong with Father. I mean, I've got some pretty serious bones to pick with you about that. You seemed to have an allergy to giving me any information about him, and I went crazy trying to figure out what was going on and what Father's condition and status was. It got so bad that all I could do was wallow in my misery, and I nearly drove Christian away from me as a result. I'm lucky he still wanted me when I finally came to my senses. You are the most _frustrating_ secret-keeper I ever met in my life. How Julie lives with you, I'll never understand. You tell me nothing, Rogan Callaghan, not a damn thing! I want an answer and I want it right now. First of all: are you really sure you'll be able to take over this business? Because I'm not—you never seem to quit coming to us for some kind of advice. And more than anything else, are you going to need me for your assistant or not? I want that answer most of all, so I know what I'm up against and we can make plans accordingly. And no verbal acrobatics, either. Just a straight answer."

Rogan blinked at her. "Well, now, look...before ye really get up a head o' steam, ye oughta know that I was busy as hell while you were waitin' for your wee one to be born. I had a lot to do an' hardly any time to do much of anythin' beyond the business, because I had so much to learn. I think I'm gettin' the hang of it now, but I come for advice because I've not seen the variety of fantasies that uncle has, or even ye. But ye might've noticed it's been gettin' a little easier for me.

"As to your bein' my assistant..." Rogan blew out his breath while she stared at him expectantly. "I kinda think the dynamics've changed here. Uncle knows all about this business, so he could get away with a regular human like ye as his assistant. I'm still new to this stuff, an' even though uncle's explained the abilities and the way they work and shown me how to access and make use of them, it's like takin' a crash course in the business. I gotta tell ye the truth: whatever assistance I need, it'd have to come from someone in the clan, an' for now that's uncle. After he's gone I'm thinkin' o' havin' Rory handle any quick fixes. I can do all the administrative stuff; that's natural for me, considerin' I've been doin' it for ages with the greenhouse."

"So the answer is...no?" Leslie ventured in a small voice.

"If I were as experienced as uncle, or if ye belonged to the clan, Leslie, I'd keep ye on, but I'm not an' ye don't. If somethin' goes awry after uncle's gone an' I need to fix it, an' it's beyond your abilities, what then? I can't keep callin' down the tribunal every time some little thing gets out o' hand an' I can't remember what to do. I can just tell Rory, 'fix this in this manner so that this result comes about', an' he can do it for me. Ye can't. I—I'm sorry, Leslie, I really hate to do it, but that's how I see it. As much as I know ye love this island and what ye do for uncle, I think ye better make alternative plans for after he leaves us."

Leslie pulled in a long breath and released it very slowly, closing her eyes, letting her head fall forward. She sat like that for some time, trying to come to terms with her dismissal and wondering what she was going to tell Christian. But in her singleminded zeal, she had completely forgotten he was still in the room; and when he spoke she was badly jolted, enough to twitch violently in the chair and grab the edge of the desk.

"Well," Christian said, staring hard at Rogan. "What it sounds like to me is that once you take over Mr. Roarke's position, you'll stick mostly to the things Leslie's doing now, and use your son to handle whatever Mr. Roarke normally does—making it look, of course, as if you're the one performing these tasks. That seems pretty underhanded to me."

"Blame the tribunal," Rogan said, shaking his head. "I'm only tryin' to protect this business uncle built up over all these decades. I'm liable to run it inta the ground because I don't want to do this in the first place an' haven't the enthusiasm I need. Ye know as well as Leslie does that Rory's the only other one who can do this, an' because o' his age, I have to both train an' discipline the lad till he's capable o' takin' over on his own. Someone's gotta do all the paperwork, an' if I let Rory handle the magical stuff, that leaves me at loose ends, so I might as well take over that. At least there I know what I'm doin'."

Christian frowned, glanced at his laptop and set about closing windows and powering it down while he spoke. "Somehow I find it hard to believe you really can't find a place for Leslie in the business. Are you quite sure there's nothing she can do for you?"

But Leslie had begun to recover, and she stood up, catching both men's attention. "It's okay, believe it or not. I...I think I saw this coming for quite a while. Something told me that once Father's gone, I'd have to rethink my life." She focused on her husband. "Christian, my love, I love you so much for what you're trying to do for me, but it's okay, really. You and I can at least start working on some plan for our future now." She waited for his reluctant nod before turning to Rogan. "I admit, I'm not exactly thrilled about the fact that you think I'm just excess baggage—"

Rogan got to his feet at that. "That's not what I'm sayin' a'tall, Leslie, just so we have the record straight here. Ye've actually been a big help to me this summer, givin' me little tips here an' there as ye have. It's only...och, it seems to me ye and Christian have yer own lives ye should be leadin', whether it's here on this island or back in his country. Ye've got four little ones who're still young enough to need their mum, an' I know ye wanted to be a mum for a long time. Maybe it's time ye took a break from workin' an' were a mum for a while—especially with the triplets startin' school tomorrow."

"All right," Leslie said softly, lifting both hands as if in surrender. "I apologize for my assumption about your thinking I was excess baggage. It's only...I've been doing this since I was fourteen, with only a five-year break while I was married to Teppo, and it's going to take me some time to get used to not being part of this anymore. So just give me a chance to...to get past this." She closed her eyes again; Christian set the laptop on the tea table and came around to hug her.

"Don't look at me like that," Rogan said, fielding his cool stare. "I didn't want to tell her all that. Why d'ye think I waited so long? I wasn't gonna say anythin' a'tall till just before uncle had to join that damned tribunal, but she forced me hand. It could be best this way. At least now ye two have a chance to make some plans an' decide what's next for ye. Better now than at the last minute, don't ye think?"

Christian chuckled shortly. "Perhaps so. It's only that I know how much this has always meant to Leslie, and to be summarily dismissed like that...well, anyone would be a bit traumatized. I couldn't blame her if she worked it out with Mr. Roarke to lend him, and only him, her services as assistant, and allowed you to flounder along on your own and call on Rory when you thought something was about to misfire. After all, that's your plan for after Mr. Roarke is gone, isn't it? So, like Leslie, you can start to get used to the new dynamic as well." He let Rogan stand there with his mouth hanging open and turned his attention to his wife. "Don't worry, my Rose. We're not in any financial difficulty, and if you find you prefer to stay at home with Anastasia and be a full-time mother, by all means, you can do that. You'll have more time to spend with your friends as well."

"I know," she murmured, lifting her head; he saw to his surprise that her eyes were dry. "But you know something? All summer long I've suspected that Rogan was going to tell me he wouldn't need me, and I kept wondering how I was going to react once I finally got fed up enough to push him for a direct answer. And I kept coming back around to the feeling that, even if I did stay, nothing would be the same without Father here. It may still be the same Fantasy Island, but you could say Fantasy Island is Father, and Father is Fantasy Island. Can you imagine this place without him running it?" She smiled when Christian let out a soft chuckle of concession and shook his head. "No, me either. So I guess what it really means is that since Father's being forced to move on, I should do the same. It's the end of an era for both him and me. So it's like you said...we have time to figure out where to go and what to do from here, now that it's official."

"So we do," Christian agreed. "For now, of course, you're still in Mr. Roarke's employ, so the transition will be gradual—and if you need to talk with him about all this, you can still do that." She nodded, and he smiled and dropped a kiss on her lips. "Let's let this lie for the moment, and we'll bring it up over supper and start discussing some options. You have some letters to read, I believe, and I think I'd better find out what Brianna's done with the triplets." He grinned at her giggle, squeezed her and let her go, murmuring an "excuse me" to Rogan and gathering up his laptop before departing.

"I didn't mean to..." Rogan began helplessly. "I mean...that is, there's no good way to deliver that sort o' bad news, ye know..."

Leslie glanced at him as she sat back in Roarke's chair. "I know. It's just going to take some getting used to." She paused as he stood there looking a little lost. "Was there something else you needed?"

Rogan frowned, thinking about it, then snapped his fingers. "Aye, I remember now. I was goin' to ask uncle what time he thinks I should end the Spider-Man fantasy."

Leslie stared at him, then started to laugh. "Cousin, you have four and a half months left to learn to pick up those subtle cues. Father's at an appointment that he expected to take all afternoon, so you'll have to wing it. Have fun." Rogan growled at that and stalked out of the house, and Leslie returned to the mail at last, feeling much happier now for some reason she couldn't possibly name.

§ § § - August 31, 2009

Valerie Griffin hung back after Chance and Hayley had shaken hands with Roarke, Leslie and Rogan and thanked them for their fantasy. Once they were ambling toward the dock with Chance's girlfriend Elara, who seemed to have forgotten all about Owen, she said, "I think they finally learned that lesson I couldn't get through their thick skulls all these years. Not that I expect them to ever get along all that well with each other, for at least a few more years, but I have to admit, Owen and Sydney were pretty diabolical. Mr. Roarke, you're a genius for realizing that's what they needed to stop their harping on a same-sex sibling and learn to appreciate each other a little more."

"I'm very glad everything turned out satisfactorily," Roarke said with an appreciative smile, and there was one final round of handshaking before Valerie followed her children to the plane. Rogan shoved his hands into his pockets, watching her go.

"So how did Chance an' Hayley come to terms with that weekend brother an' sister they had?" he asked. "I thought they'd be lookin' for refunds meself."

Roarke chuckled. "Quite simple really. Hayley found herself with an entire new wardrobe that she had originally helped Sydney purchase; and Chance got his girlfriend back at last." They all laughed.

Jack DeFazio clambered out of the second car and gave Rogan a sheepish grin as he shook hands. "Well, I guess it was a pretty good weekend after all, once I learned how to use the web-shooters and figured out how to handle Mary Jane," he said.

"Well, good...so is Spider-Man still yer favorite superhero?" queried Rogan.

DeFazio thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know. He really had to pinch his pennies, didn't he? Next time I think I'll see what it's like to be the heir to a fortune. Bruce Wayne and Batman, here I come." He hesitated. "That is, if it's okay with you."

Rogan shrugged. "Just don't ask me for any lessons in how to drive the Batmobile, an' ye'll be welcome," he said. DeFazio laughed along with Roarke and Leslie, bade them goodbye and departed.

The plane was taxiing across the lagoon when Roarke turned to Leslie. "I understand the triplets are eager to begin school," he commented. "I look forward to a report from you at the end of the day, telling me whether kindergarten lives up to their expectations."

Leslie grinned. "I'm looking forward to it myself. I promise to let you know as soon as Christian and I do."

Fantasy Island's policy was to hold full-day kindergarten, so Christian and Leslie knew they wouldn't see their youngsters till three o'clock that afternoon. Susanna, Karina and Tobias hugged Roarke goodbye, tried to help their parents strap them into their child seats, urged them to hurry when Leslie had a little trouble getting Anastasia into her own car seat, and chattered excitedly all the way to the elementary school. In fact, they talked enough that they never noticed how quiet their parents were.

The entire Enstad family headed for the school entrance together, with Anastasia riding on Leslie's arm; Christian and Leslie were both relieved to see that quite a few other kindergarten parents were there as well, including Taro and Ivy, Maureen and Grady, and especially Brian and Lauren—the only friends they had who hadn't been through the kindergarten ritual already with older children. "This is nerve-wracking," Brian said, watching Kevin and Tobias showing each other their brand-new sneakers. "I was looking forward to this all summer, and now he's actually gonna be out of the house seven hours a day, and it's gonna be way too quiet."

"I can't believe he's five already," Lauren mourned. "I can't believe they all are."

Christian smiled, gazing at Susanna and Karina peering around at all their new classmates. "It's part of life," he murmured. "Consider that it's only the beginning of a long school career, and think how loudly you're going to cry the day they all complete their schooling and receive their certificates. Or diplomas." He laughed at himself. "I can never remember that. In Lilla Jordsö, a diploma is what you earn from college or university. Our _högskolan_ yields a completion certificate."

"Do you have kindergarten there too?" asked Ivy Sensei shyly, clinging to her husband Taro's arm. She had never truly shed her severely introverted ways; but she did have friends on the island and seemed much less self-conscious with Taro at her side. She clearly thrived on motherhood; Myeko had reported that Stephanie and Noah liked her very much, and Tia—who had no memory of her late birth mother—called her "Mommy".

"We do, although it's not mandatory," said Christian. "Still, most _jordiska_ children do attend it. Speaking of which...if we don't hurry, the children may well be late."

They rounded up their youngsters and headed for the school entrance; Karina and Tia were actually holding hands and seemed content to face the new adventure knowing they had each other, while April Harding and Susanna were whispering and giggling like a pair of noisy little birds. Tobias and Kevin ran into the school ahead of the rest and had to be called back by their mothers; Anastasia, wide awake and alert, kept cranking her head around to stare at everything, eyes nearly perfectly round, trying to take it all in at once.

The principal was waiting in the hallway to pull aside the parents and all the new kindergartners; it was quite the nattering crowd when they were finally all in place, what with nearly thirty children and almost twice as many parents cramming into the small space. "Well, welcome to Eastern Island Elementary," she said when things had quieted a little. "Let me lead everyone to the kindergarten room and introduce you to Mrs. Moore."

The teacher in question was a middle-aged woman who introduced herself as the wife of a high-ranking official from Coral Island AFB; she picked up a stack of long, narrow yellow cards on which were printed the names of her new students. She read them off in alphabetical order by surname, and the parents—waiting at the front of the room with their children—watched the youngsters claim their name cards and choose their own desks at random. Mrs. Moore was grinning as she handed out Karina's, then Susanna's, and finally Tobias' cards. "The Enstad triplets. I have to admit, this is the first time I've ever taught a set of triplets. They must keep things lively at home."

"You don't know the half of it," Leslie assured her, drawing laughter.

When the last child had received a card and chosen a desk, Mrs. Moore informed them, "You'll all find Scotch tape inside your desks. Take your name card and tape it to the front of your desk, everybody." While the children were so occupied, she answered questions from the parents, keeping an eye on the kids as she did so.

Then Christian inquired, "Ours have been told that they sing a lot of songs at this level of their schooling. Is that still true? What songs will you teach them?"

"Everything," Mrs. Moore assured him. "I run the gamut from classic children's ditties to popular songs. I had a teacher who had us singing everything from 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' to 'Yellow Submarine'—two years after the Beatles split up, so that we had no idea who the Beatles were, but we thought it was a great song anyway." Everyone laughed. "So I decided to do the same when I started teaching kindergarten. The kids will have a great time this year, and they'll come out knowing how to read and write their own names, how to count and read simple words and get along with each other. They'll have plenty of fun and they'll be learning at the same time—and they won't even realize it."

"Sneaky," said Christian with a grin. "In that case, we look forward to hearing good things from the children this year."

Mrs. Moore thanked him and all the other parents, then announced, "Okay, everybody, let's get ready to have some fun today and make new friends!" The children cheered, and the parents laughed again and began to file out the door mostly in twos, with a few single parents grouping in among them.

"There," said Maureen with eminent satisfaction. "That's both of ours in school, so now we can have some peace for part of the day. And maybe my house will stay clean for more than ten minutes at a stretch."

"That long?" said Lauren, exaggerating her amazement. "I'm lucky if Kevin lets the place stay clean for two minutes. Trouble is, once I'm done cleaning, I won't know what to do with myself."

"Oh, I will," Brian leered at her, and they broke into laughter and split up to head for home. Leslie had to take the extra time to strap Anastasia back into her car seat; then she settled into the passenger side and blew out a breath as Christian pulled onto the Ring Road on their way home.

"Do you miss them yet?" she asked Christian, halfway down the Old Swamp Road toward the southern side of the island.

Christian glanced at her and grinned. "I haven't had a chance. I think it's been all of ten minutes since we left the school. Don't tell me you wish they were still too young."

"I never said that," Leslie said, noticing that Anastasia had fallen asleep, lulled by the car ride and on sensory overload from the excitement of witnessing her brother and sisters begin their school careers. "I'm just figuring that if we get through the day without missing them too much, then we'll have no trouble adjusting to their being in school five days a week from now on."

"Ah," said Christian. "To tell you the truth, if you had said you did miss them that much, I had a plan to distract you from it." He cast her a particular look that made her grin, and grinned back. "Brian stole my line about it, though." Laughing, they settled back in their seats, looking forward to a morning to themselves for the first time in several years.

* * *

_I know, I know, I still have to resolve Anna-Kristina's little problem...I promise I will! Meantime, I look forward to your suggestions for fantasy flashbacks..._


End file.
